


Where The Story Ends

by Just_Us



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Fix-It, Implied Mpreg, Light Angst, M/M, Mpreg, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2020-02-26 01:31:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18713788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Us/pseuds/Just_Us
Summary: "Couldn't stop him.""Neither could I.""I lost the kid.""Tony, we lost."





	1. We lost

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Thanos' plan to kill at random leads to Peter's death, along with the death of Steve and Tony's unborn child.

Steve didn't know what to say as he watched the ship touch down and Tony stumble out. They hadn't spoken since the events in Siberia. All he could do was place a supporting hand on Tony's back, making sure he didn’t fall over at a moments notice.

 

"Couldn't stop him." Tony's voice was absolutely wrecked, low and grating. Steve couldn't help but wince as he heard Tony draw in a pained breathe before continuing, "I lost the kid."

 

Almost on instinct, Steve's hands protectively wrapped around his stomach. He instantly let go upon realizing what he had just done. He reminded himself that Tony wasn't talking about  _her_ , he didn't even know about  _her_ ; he was probably talking about Peter. Peter was the child he had lost not _her_. 

 

He took a breathe, trying to calm himself before replying, "Tony, we lost."

 

He hated how his voice cracked as he spoke. He hated how broken and defeated he sounded. He hated how weak and vulnerable he felt. Most importantly, he hated how his heart clenched with jealousy as he watched Pepper hug Tony.

 

He let his mind wander as he tried not to watch them hug and kiss and hold each other. The first image that popped into his head was  _her_ ; his daughter. He made sure no one was watching before pulling out a worn-out silver locket, with an engraved heart on the front, from under his shirt. He opened the locket, revealing a cut out photo of a sonogram, and traced his thumb over the photo.

 

He quickly snapped the locket shut when he noticed Tony and Pepper beginning to walk away. He made sure to keep his distance as he proceeded after them.

 

His mind continued to drift back to that moment, the moment that changed everything, the moment he lost everything; when Thanos snapped his fingers and half of the population died including his still unborn child. He felt so hollow and empty.

 

She wasn't alive anymore, he reminded himself over and over again. His baby girl wasn't alive anymore.

  

Tony wasn't the only one who lost a kid.

  

 


	2. The beginning of now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is how it started; with tainted actions and lies feigning the truth.

"Hold me."

That's what I had said to him when he showed up again; everyone else either asleep or mingling amongst themselves. It felt like we were alone together, isolated. I had said those words to him and he had merely stared. When he did nothing I began to remove my clothes, waiting for him to move. He finally did once my shirt was removed and I was working on my jeans.

He kicked off his shoes, face unusually serious but soft as he climbed on top of me. His face hovered over mine by inches, slowly closing the distance, soft sure lips pressing against my own. I didn't even know for sure if this was real or not.

 _This wasn't real, it was all a dream_.

My eyes moistened when I realized it probably was nothing more than a dream, no it had to be a dream.

I looked up through my tears, into coffee-colored eyes. That comforted me a little, but didn't stop the tears. In fact my tears fell more profusely when I looked into them. He ran a hand through my hair, eyes softened and face sincere. The gentleness, so very unlike Tony, stung and pulled at something in me that hurt like a throbbing pain.

With wet cheeks I helped him tug off my jeans, relieving the semi hard cock. I whimpered at the cool air hitting it. Tony looked down at me, a hidden question there.

Without thinking I nodded and closed my eyes as his lips crashed against mine, teeth clacking together uncomfortably but with a certain rawness that made it easier to believe this was real. I tipped my head back to give him access to my throat, feeling his teeth bite and caress the skin there.

"Tony." I moaned in a broken voice when his hand gripped my hard flesh in his hand and stroked.

He hushed me gently as he pumped his hand over my cock. I felt shivers work through me and against his clothed skin. Noticing that, I ran my hands under his worn brown jacket hearing a hiss and a soft groan. I easily pulled his jacket and shirt off of his small frame and paused at his trousers. His eyes met mine for a minute before he unbuttoned his jeans.

He wiggled out of the denim, throwing them away from the bed, leaving him in just green plaid boxers.

I wanted to smile and I would have if I knew this was real and not just a painful dream. I rolled us, so I was on top and watched him smirk. It fell away though, just a ghost of the real thing. With hurt and anger I kissed him harshly feeling and hearing him grunt in surprise.

Moans tumble from my lips while I rut against his hips.

"How do you want it?"

Part of me wonders why I bother hoping for something real. Again, my heart burns with fear and pain. It must show on my face because he's running one of those perfectly small hands over my face again. I feel my eyes close and I lean into the touch.

"Not what I want Steve, but what you want. What do you want...?" He asks.

I don't deserve this, I don't deserve to be treated with such love and admiration. I don't deserve anything.

I feel my chin shake and my heart throb.

"I want you, I want you to-," I choke on emotion but force them down long enough to finish. "I-I want you to hold me."

.

.

Of course, the bed was empty the next morning. But his imprint, the outline of where his body had once been, holding me, caressing me, was still there. 

.

.

.

.

I wanted it to be real, I really did; _maybe it was._


End file.
